“Brrrriiiiiiaaaaannnnn,” John sings, giggling to himself. Brian rolls his eyes at his very drunk boyfriend sitting in the passenger seat of his black Range Rover.
“Yes, John?” Brian asks, taking a quick look at John before looking back at the dark road ahead of him.
“You’re prettyyyy,” John chirps, giggling again. Brian can’t help but chuckle; drunk Deaky is kind of cute.
“You’re pretty drunk,” Brian retorts.
“I’m not drunk!” John slurs, eyebrows furrowing. “Am I?”
“Yes, you are. I’ll get you in bed once we get back to the flat,” Brian promises.
“I don’t want to sleep! I’m hornyyyy,” John whines, grabbing his own crotch and squeezing a bit. Brian bites his lip, trying not to look.
“Babe, you’re really drunk,” Brian reminds him.
“Hmph, capable enough to get you to come inside of me,” John challenges, smirking as he leans over the middle console of the car and unbuttons Brian’s jeans.
“John! I’m driving, Jesus Christ!” Brian yells, his eyes widening before he frowns and his eyebrows knit together.
“Is that supposed to make a difference?” John asks honestly. Brian takes a deep breath, grabbing John's hand that’s lying on his crotch.
“Seriously, John. Cut it out,” Brian says, hoping his voice sounds firm.
John ignores him completely, though, unzipping Brian’s black jeans and pulls back the fabric on his boxers, letting his cock spring free, which is already semi-hard. John giggles to himself, clearly satisfied.
“Seems like you don’t want me to stop,” John teases, taking hold of Brian’s member; a strangled noise coming from Brian’s lips and his fingers gripping tightly around the steering wheel.
“John, I mean it. Maybe when we get home, just not n-now!” Brian screams the last word as John's warm mouth enveloped the tip of his cock. He bites his lip so hard he almost draws blood, his knuckles white around the wheel.
The younger boy swallows him down, taking him deep into his mouth, letting his eyes flutter closed; he finally starting to calm down a bit from the alcohol.
“J-John,” Brian groans, gnawing on the inside of his cheek. John hallows out his cheeks, bobbing his head up and down slowly and Brian’s foot almost slips off of the gas pedal.
John sits up on his knees on his seat, gripping Brian’s thighs for balance as he gets comfortable. Flexible little shit, Brian thinks to himself.
“Christ, John. Gonna make me get into a fucking car accident, killing us both,” Brian growls, tossing a hand into John's hair and tugging on it roughly. John squeaks in surprise, but never takes his mouth off of Brian. “You’re a little slut, you know that?” Brian pants, putting both hands back on the wheel and blinking quickly, trying to focus on driving and not on the perfect mouth wrapped around his throbbing cock.
John simply smirks around Brian, coming off of him and licking a long stripe against one of the more prominent veins. The older boy shivers, his cock full and heavy and his vision getting blurry and he really needs John.
